


The Death Of A King

by ArchangelOfAwesomeness



Category: Gone Series - Michael Grant
Genre: Blood and Gore, Boot Worship, Gross, Murder, No Romance, No Smut, Public Humiliation, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:48:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21731092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchangelOfAwesomeness/pseuds/ArchangelOfAwesomeness
Summary: "Now, you follow me. You listen to my orders." Drake's voice was low and authoritative. His eyes were locked onto the girl's as he took a few steps closer. "You all belong to me."
Comments: 7
Kudos: 11





	The Death Of A King

**Author's Note:**

> This took so much will power not to make this pornographic.

"That's a good boy." Caine growled, baring his teeth and bringing his face close to Drake. "Kneel for your king." He added, voice little more than a menacing whisper. Drake felt the warmth of Caine's breath against his blood stained face, as he fought the urge to do something very stupid. 

Murmurs from intrigued onlookers could be heard and, in that very moment, Drake became very self aware. The entire population of Coates, approximately thirteen people at this stage, were all watching with a mix of wide eyes and smirks. His reputation. His precious reputation! It was being walked all over.

Drake looked at Caine, seeing his mouth move but no words seemed to come out. It was as though there was a veil preventing any sound from reaching his ears. Caine frowned and slapped Drake across the face. Hard. Drake burnt hot with embarrassment and rage. 

"Listen to your orders, Drake." Caine spat, doing whatever he could to belittle Drake. "I said my boots are looking awfully dirty. Clean. Them. For. Me." A ghost of a smirk could be seen lingering on his lips as he pointed down to his boots.

"With what?" Drake snarled, emphasising his empty hands, well, hand. He glared up at Caine, eyes full of resentment. 

Caine chuckled deeply, as if it were obvious. "Oh you silly little thing, with your tongue." He moved one foot forward and waited for Drake to begin cleaning off the mud, blood and, what looked like a piece of old gum.

Drake looked down at Caine's shoe with disgust. "I'm not licking your shoes clean." He snarled, returning his gaze to Caine's dark eyes.

Caine hit Drake again, punching him this time square in the jaw. "You're in no position to argue. Don't forget, I built you up, I can just as easily crush you back down."

Drake sat stunned for a moment, unable to say a word. He looked utterly helpless as he sat there, defeated. He leaned down and began working off the mud with his tongue, leaving streaks as if he were mopping up an old, dusty deck. The lovely salty taste filled his mouth, resembling slightly dusty, sweaty neck, he kept lapping up the filth until he had gotten most of it off. He looked up at Caine, awaiting to be dismissed.

"You missed a spot" Caine aggressively pointed at some old gum that looked like it could easily start an epidemic. Drake gagged a little before getting close to Caine's shoe once again, this time everything appeared to be in slow motion. He thought using his teeth would get it over and done with faster, but Drake had never been so wrong. The gum resembled firm clay, molding around his teeth, however the exterior of the gum was crunchy and formed an outer shell. Milliseconds feel like minutes, and seconds feel like hours. The gum detached from Caine's shoe, well, most of it did. Little did Drake know that some of the gum stuck to Caine's shoe like concrete. 

"All of it." Caine said, voice raised, looking into Drake's green face full of disgust. Drake had no choice but to lick the remaining gum off using nothing but the sheer force of his tongue. It tastes like what blue cheese smells like, the bitterness filled Drake's mouth and overwhelmed his senses in a matter of mere moments. He couldn't last any longer without emptying his churning stomach. After what felt like months, no gum was left on Caine's shoe. Drake rejoiced in his mind for a few seconds before disgust washed over him again once he realized he still had, God knows how old, gum in his mouth. He awaited the words before doing anything more. 

"Run along, pet. And remember, what you did just then, serving me, it's the most you'll ever amount to in life." Caine spat. "Other than that, you're worthless." He laughed a little, then some more. It was a laugh quite unlike Caine, it was chaotic and filled with a cruelness that he usually kept hidden. “Run along now, pet.” He ordered, landing one final kick to Drake’s ribs as he scrambled away.

Drake wasted no time after hearing those words, he clambered away, sore, humiliated, thirsty for vengeance. He made a beeline straight to the bathroom where he brushed his teeth until his gums bled and then used up an entire bottle of mouthwash. He then stood, grey-blue eyes glaring at his own reflection. The bloodied lip and battered ribs brought him immense shame. Heat filled his body and he mumbled a series of curses before pounding his fist into the mirror, sending cracks spiderwebbing across the surface. He punched it again, feeling the sharp sting as glass entered his knuckles and became embedded in the flesh. He stopped, relaxed his hand, and brought his fingers up to the top of the mirror and pressed lightly against it, dragging his nails down like one would drag their nails down a chalkboard. Shards of glass became embedded beneath the tough nails and cut up his nail bed, causing blood to slowly drip from his fingertips.

After a moment more, Drake snapped, pulling his hand away from the broken glass. He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed, shaking his head before stalking out of the bathroom and heading straight towards his room. He left a trail of bright red droplets leading to his room. He knew someone was going to stumble upon it later but they weren’t going to worry. Blood around Drake wasn’t an uncommon sight. He slammed the door shut behind him and pressed his back against it, sliding down slowly until he was on the ground with his face between his knees. 

Breathing softly, his mind began to wander. Beautiful pictures of Caine's impossibly twisted body, skin painted crimson and bones peeking through broken flesh. Drake found himself trying to reach out and caress the bloodied corpse but his hand passed right through the image and, almost in an instant, Caine was gone and Drake was back in his room, surrounded by the gore filled movie posters and assortment of weapons. He let out a sound that resembled a sob before gently rubbing his face. He wanted the sight of Caine's broken body to return. He was determined to make it return.

As the sky dimmed, Drake felt his mind grow hazy. Never did it stray from his plan, even when he drifted off into a deep slumber, pictures of blood and death danced in his mind.  
Drake awoke suddenly the next morning, murder in his eyes, he was still royally pissed. He ran out of his room and into the schools main storeroom. He searched around, eventually finding what he wanted,a large metal baseball bat, he wrapped his cold hands around the end of the bat and approached Caine’s room, fury filling him to the brim. He gently pushed the door open, peering inside to make sure Caine was asleep. He wasn’t. He was standing by the window, staring outside. 

Drake, although confused, crept towards Caine, as silent as a panther, bat in hand. When Caine finally saw him in the reflection, it was too late, Drake was close enough to take a swing. Caine spun around, palms ready to fight back, he was too slow though.

Drake swung the bat, connecting it with Caine’s temple and causing the shorter boy to cry out in pain and crumple to the floor. He moved weakly, scrambling to get back to his feet, he could have fought back with his powers but his mind was swimming too much to send a signal to do so. Drake grinned, took a step towards Caine and brought the bat down over the back of his head. Caine stopped struggling and his body went limp, the face so often filled with a cunning and manipulative danger was relaxed, looking almost peaceful.

Drake turned Caine onto his back and sat on his stomach, pinning the brunettes arms down by his side with his knees. He pulled out his switchblade and cut through the buttons of Caine’s blazer and undershirt, he exposed his chest and made a small incision with the blade, then another one coming off that, and another, until a bloody D was carved into the flesh. Caine’s eyes fluttered a little as Drake finished carving the next letter, an R, he groaned, tried to move before coming to his senses and roaring in pain as the sensation of a blade two inches deep in his chest hit him. 

“Wakey wakey, sunshine.” Drake said in a sing song voice. He grabbed Caine's face with one hand and gave his cheeks a bit of a squeeze. "Look at you. Not the tough guy you were yesterday, huh?" He chuckled, returning to carving up Caine's chest. An A came next, followed by screams and a particularly sloppy looking K and finally, alongside the unhinged laughter that was erupting from Drake's mouth, the E was carved, leaving Drake's name etched across Caine's entire chest. 

Tears streamed down the face of the older boy as he lay, completely and utterly helpless, in sheer agony. His muscles danced under his skin as he writhed and wriggled, trying to get out from underneath Drake. “Get off me, Drake!! I’ll kill you! I swear to God, I’ll kill you!!” He screamed, trying to sound menacing but a slight waver in his voice made that impossible. 

Drake grinned and shook his head. “No, I don’t think I will. You see...I rather like the look of you like this. All, bloody and afraid.” He brought the blade away from Caine and wiped the blood off on his shirt. “What am I going to do with you now, hm? I could...peel off your skin to make myself a new jacket. Or maybe I can crush your limbs and watch the muscles and tendons spurt out like toothpaste.”

Caine upturned his lip in disgust and shuddered. He had seen what Drake was capable of and was, more often than not, chilled to the bone by the behaviour of the blond. He decided to turn his tactics from demanding to pleading. He was in pain and was no doubt going to die unless he got away now. “Drake, please, stop this.” He whispered, finding the words stuck in his throat.

At that very instant, Drake stopped everything he was doing. “What was that? Speak up so I can hear you...pet.” He growled, moving his hands up to Caine’s throat and gingerly resting them there, not yet applying any pressure.

“I-I said, Drake, please let me go.” Caine said, raising his shaking voice a little. He took a shallow breath and squirmed under Drake’s hands, praying that he didn’t start squeezing. His dark eyes stared pleadingly into Drake’s cold, dead-looking ones.

“Yeah, okay, sure. I’ll let you go.” Drake said, sitting back a little but not getting off of Caine’s stomach. He burst into laughter again, tears building up in his eyes. He stopped laughing as quickly as he started and lunged onto Caine’s throat again, squeezing his throat with his whip arm and covering his mouth and nose with his regular hand. “Go to sleep, Caine.” He whispered, hushing him in an almost soothing way. 

Caine struggled, trying, and failing, to fight Drake off. He made a strange throaty sound before his movements became sloppy and his arms weakly dropped to his side. His eyes rolled back and his body, once again, went limp. Drake smirked, and got off of Caine, grabbing him by the foot and dragging him down the hall to Coates’ store room. He left Caine by the back row of shelves before heading to grab the wheelbarrow, cement mixture and a shovel. He pushed it out of the room, pausing only to pick Caine up and sling him over his shoulders. 

Drake was a mix of thrilled and saddened by the lack of people they encountered, only two or three people caught sight of the pair on their way out and each of them had a similar response; silent shock.

It mattered not though, for as soon as Drake stepped outside, he tossed Caine's limp body onto the lawn and began digging a shallow hole, the show wasn't over yet. The soil gave way, letting the shovel slide past almost effortlessly, before long a small hole was created. Drake grinned, it was perfect. In he poured in a mix of cement powder, water and a small amount of gravel. He mixed it up a bit with the shovel before dragging Caine to his doom. Into the mixture, Caine's balled up hands were plunged, being engulfed to just above his wrists.

When Caine finally began to stir, it was too late. The concrete had hardened enough for him to be unable to move his hands. He tried to say something but the words came out slurred and much too quiet to be able to decipher. He blinked a couple of times before looking down at his hands. He frowned, trying to pull his hands out but to no avail. "Y-You really think this can hold me?" Caine asked, trying to sound intimidating. It didn't work. He didn't try it again. Instead, he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. "Drake." He choked out, fighting back tears. "Please, no. We...we were like brothers! You can't do this to me!"

Drake, of course, wasn't listening. He never regarded Caine as a brother, he was always just a tool at Drake's disposal. But now that Drake had the Gaiaphage, Caine was completely useless. "Lets go, Caine. I've got something to show you, pet." He tangled his fingers in Caine's hair, pulling tightly on it and causing his scalp to strain. A small whimper escaped the throat of the older boy as his head jerked forward. He reluctantly followed Drake, knowing that, if he resisted, Drake would have no problem dragging him by his hair to wherever he wanted, so it was no use fighting at this point.

Drake half dragged, half lead him back inside Coates, beaming happily as he began humming an unknown melody. A moment more and the humming turned into singing with Drake swaying and dancing about. The adrenaline levels within the boy went from zero to one hundred in a matter of mere seconds.

"Welcome to the jungle  
Watch it bring you to your shun n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n knees, knees." 

Despite not seeming like it, Drake actually had a rather lovely singing voice and probably would have been able to be a successful singer if the FAYZ hadn't happened.

"Uh I, I wanna watch you bleed  
Welcome to the jungle, we take it day by day  
If you want it you're gonna bleed but it's the price to pay."

Caine hated to admit it, but he found Drake's voice oddly soothing. It almost made him forget that he was being marched towards his imminent death. Almost.

"And you're a very sexy boy,"

Drake winked, looking down at Caine who looked away in a mix of anger and shyness. He would have sworn at Drake but was sure it would have come out in an awkward stuttery way.

"Very hard to please  
You can taste the bright lights, but you won't get there for free  
In the jungle, welcome to the jungle  
Feel my, my, my serpentine."

He stroked Caine's cheek with his whip arm in a tender, almost loving way, earning a shudder from the brunette. It was not nice shudder. Drake filled him with fear and disgust in a way unlike anyone else. Especially now that he was being played with, like a half dead rat in the jaws and paws of a cat.

"Uh, I, I want to hear you scream."

He finished his singing with a loud whoop of joy, looking down again at Caine, who still hadn't looked back at Drake. "What's the matter, Caine?" He asked, teasingly. When he was greeted by the lack of a response, he twisted Caine's hair around his hand again and pulled his head so he had no choice but to look at him. "Cat got your tongue?" His voice was low and threatening but still somehow had a hint of playfulness to it. 

"Dweebs, degenerates and disappointments of Coates!" Drake called out, upon arriving at the dormitory. "Why don't you come on out and pay your respect to the new king." 

Little by little, people had crept out of their rooms, filling the air with dismayed whispers and mumbles. All eyes were locked onto Caine, some praying that he finds a way out of this, and others completely unsure of the situation. Suddenly, a scream cut through the hushed voices, and silenced them quickly. Drake knew that scream. He loved that scream. Diana.

Drake and Caine spun around to face her almost simultaneously, Drake wore a look of twisted pleasure while Caine looked as though he was about to cry. The last thing he wanted was for Diana to get caught up in all of this. 

"Diana, get out of here!" Caine choked out, earning a hard lash to the face. He whimpered, quieting down immediately, tears stinging his eyes as he fought down embarrassment. 

"No, Diana, do stay." Drake purred, grinning wickedly at her. "You wouldn't want to miss the show now, would you?" His eyes glistened dangerously, everything seemed to be going his way today. He saw a glisten of metal in the corner of his eye and knew instantly what is was. It was a handgun, no doubt. If he moved fast enough, which he was sure he would, he could grab the gun and shoot her right in front of Caine. He would much rather take his time with her but there was nothing stopping him from avoiding her vitals and letting her bleed to death.

In a flash, his whip had stretched out, making an audible snap as it slashed through the air and wrapped around the handle of the gun. Diana barely had time to flinch before Drake had retrieved the gun and swapped hands so that his whip was now wrapped around Caine’s throat, forcing him to watch as he aimed the gun and emptied the entire magazine into Diana’s abdomen. In the end there were a total of seven entry wounds and only three exit wounds.

Diana let out a blood curdling shriek as she dropped to the ground, her legs giving out underneath her. She gritted her teeth, her mind too foggy to realize that she couldn’t move her legs and that a bullet had become lodged in her spine.

Caine stared at Diana, unable to believe his eyes, but at the sound of her screams, he snapped out of his daze. “Diana!” He cried, his voice full of sorrow. “No! DRAKE YOU SORRY SON OF A - !” He struggled, trying to use his powers to break the concrete but to no avail. He was completely and utterly screwed and, much to his horror, so was Diana. Tears streamed down his face as he sobbed hard enough to shudder with each breath.

“Somebody pick her up. Throw her outside.” Drake demanded, eyes glancing gingerly down at Caine. “As for you, my pretty pet, it’s time for you to go now.” He dragged Caine to the stairs, half pulling, half leading him up. The older boy had completely given up, without Diana, he had nothing. He might as well just let Drake end his suffering. His entire body was filled with pain and misery.

"You know, Caine. I've dreamed of this day for a long time." Drake said, smiling a little at some unseen image in his mind. "Seeing you so vulnerable and broken is pure bliss." His smile grew wider and more menacing as he reached the top of the stairs and headed straight for the balcony with Caine in tow. They stepped outside and looked down, seeing all their former classmates looking intently at them. 

“Is everyone ready to witness the death of our...Fearless Leader?” Drake spat, waving his hand around like a presenter. He laughed a little before leaning close to Caine and whispering, “Look at all them all. Oh, Caine, look at that!” He pointed to a motionless pile which, upon closer inspection, was able to be identified as Diana. She was bleeding and pale but, as the people around her could see, she was still very much alive. 

Caine turned his head to look and felt tears streaming down his face once more, he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “You’re a monster, Drake. These people...they’ll never follow you. They’ll never trust you.” He said, trying to remain calm but his wavering voice gave away how broken he was. Seeing Diana suffering like that left him broken and empty. “Just...kill me…” He finally sobbed, hanging his head in shame.

“Since you asked so nicely.” Drake said, placing a delicate kiss to Caine’s hair and, in that instant, almost regretting what he was about to do. Key word: almost. “Bye Caine.” He muttered, wrapping his whip around the cement block and hoisting it over the railing. A moment more and Drake let go, allowing the weight of the block to drag Caine over the rails and send him plummeting to the ground. 

He seemed to fall for an eternity. Stifling a scream as the cement weighed down his torso and pulled his arms down, making them feel as though they were getting torn from their sockets as the ground grew nearer and nearer. Suddenly, with a sickening crunch, Caine's world went dark. Everyone else, however, saw with disturbing clarity, the moment that the cement block crashed into the ground and Caine’s head crunched against it. Sending blood and brain spurting across the floor.

Watching on, Drake's heart skipped a beat, he had been waiting for this moment for so long and, now that it had finally happened, he was sure it was just a dream. He stood motionless for another few seconds, fourteen for those who were counting, before taking off and almost jumping down the entire flight of stairs. He stumbled towards the end but quickly righted himself and bolted out the front door, where he was greeted by the horrified looks from the crowd and, yes, there, right there lay Caine’s body, blood still trickling from the gaping hole in his head. Drake couldn’t help but notice how peaceful he looked. His usually harsh features now just looked like those of a scared little boy who was forced to grow up too fast.

“W-what’s gonna happen now?” Squeaked a small voice from the crowd. It belonged to a girl, maybe thirteen years old. She was frail looking and her green eyes were wide with fear. Her blonde hair was matted with blood and dirt.

"Now, you follow me. You listen to my orders." Drake's voice was low and authoritative. His eyes were locked onto the girl's as he took a few steps closer. "You all belong to me."


End file.
